


Boundless

by SeductiveFishy



Series: Boundless Series [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Human, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Genderbending, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Italian Mafia, M/M, Murder, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Prostitution, Sex Work, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Violence, female valentino, for the love of god read the archive warnings, radiodust - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28353768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeductiveFishy/pseuds/SeductiveFishy
Summary: While on a business trip to Chicago for his newest film's premiere, producer Dean Vizio least expected to meet an enthralling woman behind the theater. Captured by her witty remarks, beauty and sass, Dean finds himself eating dinner with the woman, Vee, almost every night of his stay in the windy city.What will happen when the producer has to return home to California? Will Dean let go of the new friendship and budding relationship he has with Vee?A VoxVal Human AU
Relationships: Valentino & Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Boundless Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076447
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love a deep. The more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.' - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

** June 1974 **

Pulling up in front of the large theater, Dean took a moment to take in his surroundings. He had never visited Chicago before, but this portion of the city truly was gorgeous. After landing in the city’s newer airport, he hadn’t had a moment alone before being whisked around by different employees of his. Sitting in the rear of the limo, the movie producer peered through the deeply tinted windows all around the elongated vehicle.

Neon lights and blinking bulbs lined the different shops, clubs and the large theater he was dreading walking into. Though Dean loved receiving praise on his hard work in the film industry, he couldn’t help but become nervous at the different film’s premieres. The director was not fond of being crowded around for long periods of time, and the camera flashes paired with different reporters bombarding him with questions always gave him a headache.

As much as he wished he could stay in the car all evening, those wishes came crashing down as the driver opened the door. Running a hand through slicked black hair, Dean slid from the rear of the vehicle. Straightening his posture and holding his head high, he smoothed out his jacket and mentally prepared himself for the walk to the building.

He buried all his emotions and thoughts. Playing the role of the important director that he was, he made sure his strut to the theater was slow and deliberate enough for the photographers to catch him at different angles. He wore a white dress shirt and red tie paired with an expensive black suit jacket and matching slacks and shoes. The bright red tie contrasted well with his pale blue right eye. His left eye, however, was damaged and had healed over with ghostly white scar tissue. A thin scar ran from his brow to his cheekbone.

He chuckled as a smirk pulled at the edges of his mouth. From behind the press he could hear women and men alike fawning at the simple appearance of the man. He paused momentarily, allowing a few more snaps of the camera shutters before disappearing within the theater foyer.

Inside, many producers from across the country had gathered for the premiere of this film, and as Dean entered the building he was bombarded with pleasantries. A neatly clad waitress with a serving platter of champagne flutes passed by Dean, and he wasted no time in grabbing one and throwing it back. He made his way around shaking hands and introducing himself to the numerous men. Keeping up his bravado, the director made sure to greet and thank each guest before nodding to a small blonde woman standing off in the corner of the room. Seeing Dean’s gesture, she quickly pulled herself from the wall, adjusting the frills of her blouse and straightening her satchel as she tightly gripped her clipboard. Rushing to the man’s side, the assistant nodded her greeting to the men currently speaking to the director before she lightly gripped his arm, pulling him towards the rear of the foyer. Dean whispered his thanks and apologies to the men before allowing the woman to pull him away.

“Dear God, Mandy get me out of here.” The brunette nervously ran his hand through his hair before straightening his tie.

“Sir, everyone will be ushered to their seats shortly. The film is set to be played in fifteen minutes. Did you remember they wanted you to give a speech beforehand?” Mandy briefly glanced to her schedule for the evening attached to her clipboard before brushing a strand of her blonde hair from her face. “Dean you really look like you’re going to vomit, calm down. It’s the same thing every time.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit. I think I remember my speech. I need a smoke.”

The tiny woman knew what that meant. If Dean really wanted to smoke, he could simply light one indoors, like many other men had. No, this meant he wanted to be alone. She glanced behind herself at the packed lobby. Luckily, many were too enthralled in free champagne and conversation to notice Dean had even been pulled aside. 

Once again, the blonde grabbed the brunette’s sleeve before quickly pulling him down a hallway and into the screen room. Though they had reached a private part of the building, Mandy continued pulling Dean until they arrived at the screen. She whipped herself and the man behind the curtain before pushing open a small door. The cool summer night’s breeze flooded the area and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“How did you-“ He was barely able to ask his question before the tiny blonde was pushing him out the door.

“How long have I been your assistant? I scoped the place out earlier and knew the door would come in handy, hah! Now be quick. Guests will be taking their seats shortly.” Mandy quickly pulled the flap of her satchel open, pulling out a small flask.

“Here. Go, be quick!” A wide smile spread across her cheeks as she pushed the metal cannister into Dean’s hands before grabbing his shoulders, spinning him, and pushing him out the door.

Dean laughed being shoved out the door. Regaining his sense of balance and composure, he took a deep breath and lent against the cool brick exterior of the building. He slipped the flask into his inner coat lining, silently thanking Mandy for bringing it.

He was happy he had brought the short blonde along. She was fun, vibrant, and devoted to her work. She kept track of Dean’s daily schedules and appointments, ushering the man where he was needed. In addition to her business with the production studios, Mandy also assisted Dean with keeping track of his second _job._

Years prior, when Dean was still going to college for film production, he agreed to help a friend out with what should have been a one-time drug trafficking job. The thrill of the deal pushed Dean to continue assisting his friend. Nearly a year later, Dean was welcomed to the family by the Don himself. Because the director was not blood related, he did not frequently speak with the family directly, and instead ran the Southern California portion of the drug trade with a group of other local suits.

Dean happily ran the trade for years in Southern California before the true stress of the job became overwhelming. He found himself skimming product often, and what he didn’t use himself he was selling for personal gain. He knew well enough that if the Don caught wind of what he was doing he would more than likely be shot and made an example of. As a producer, actor, and businessman he trusted himself to be able to cover his tracks. With Mandy’s assistance, Dean was sure his secret was exactly that – secret.

Pulling his cigarette case from his pocket, he tugged a smoke out and placed it between his lips before snapping the case shut and fishing his zippo from his pocket. Cupping the end of his cigarette, he flicked the lighter open, pressing down on the striker.

As the flame lit, however, a bristling sound down the alley caught his attention. He quickly extinguished the flame, slamming the cap of the lighter shut. Snapping his head to the side, he squinted his eyes to make out what had caused the noise.

At first, he had assumed it to just be a cat or even a rat. However, as the noise got louder, and the figure drew closer, Dean was able to see a person walking towards him.

Standing under a dim lamp – the only light in the alleyway – Dean continued squinting as he attempted to make out the person in the darkness. They looked to be slim yet tall, with wide hips. Something large sat at their chest.

As the figure neared Dean, he could tell the bristling sound he had heard previously was the dress the figure – a woman – was wearing. Without hesitation, she approached Dean. As if they had known each other a lifetime, the mysterious woman slipped the cigarette from Dean’s mouth, placing it between her ruby colored lips. She lightly smiled as she tugged the lighter from his fingers, before opening it, spinning the striker and lighting the cigarette properly.

The flash of the spark seemed to bring the director back to reality, and his brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Do I know you?”

“Would you like to, honey?”

“Uh… uhm… what?” Dean blinked, taken aback by the brashness of the woman.

Her ruby red grin grew, revealing perfectly white teeth. Dean took a moment to look over the woman standing before him. Smooth almond skin, hazel eyes partially hidden behind golden heart shaped glasses, long black braids that hung over her shoulders… _is that pink in the braids_? A large, white fur stole hung over her shoulders, and matching white heeled boots cupped her perfect legs. White elbow length gloves covered her hands as they ran through the fur of the stole. A thin black slip was all she wore to cover her petite frame.

Feeling the man’s gaze beside her, the woman allowed the stole to slip down her shoulders before scooting closer to the man, playfully leaning towards his face.

“Like something you see?”

Dean choked, quickly backing away from the woman. He stuttered incomprehensibly as if it were some sort of retort. The woman giggled at the display, exhaling smoke from the cigarette.

At the end of the alley a car horn sounded, and the two slightly flinched. The woman quickly turned around, her braids flying with the motion. _Yup, that’s pink._ She looked back to Dean, a fake pout on those red lips.

“Sorry, Suga. Time’s up. My ride’s here.” Taking one last puff of the cigarette, she passed the smoke back to Dean. Ignoring his hand completely, she simply set the cigarette in his slightly agape mouth. Smiling, she turned to walk away - but a hand gently caught her wrist.

“Wait, you’re not here for the film?”

The woman threw her head back, a look of annoyance crossed her face as she glanced to her wrist. Dean, catching on to the look, immediately released her hand, whispering apologies.

“Huh? A film? Sorry Sug. I’m too busy a woman to watch a movie.”

Re-settling the fur on her shoulders, she brought a gloved hand to her lips, blowing the director a kiss. She turned on her heel, making her way to the alley’s exit. Dean watched the sway of her hips as she walked, mesmerized.

As she prepared to turn out of the alley the woman took one last glance at Dean, smiling as she winked at the man before disappearing around the building.

The director stared down the empty alley for what felt like ages. _What just happened? Was she real? Did… did she steal my lighter? I didn’t get her name – fuck – her name!_ Dean was snapped from his daydream as he felt heat nearing his lips. Yanking the searing hot cigarette butt from his lips, he flicked it to the ground. _I didn’t even get to smoke, dammit._ Remembering the gift Mandy had given him a moment ago, he pulled the flask from his inner coat pocket. Quickly unscrewing the cap, he brought the cannister to his lips, ignoring the burn as he chugged the spiced liquor.

“Dean? Dean…. DEAN!”

The director snapped his head back, finally hearing his assistant who had begun yelling for him.

“Dean? It’s time. C’mon, everyone is waiting for you!”

The man sighed, turning to take one last look down the alley before stepping past Mandy and back into the building.

…

The following evening, Dean found himself once again outside the theater. While the street had been packed with bodies the night prior – the area was eerily quiet now. Neon lights still flashed down the length of the street, but far less people were on the sidewalks. Couples strolling the sidewalk disappeared into restaurants, groups stumbled into bars and a few lone people lent against shop windows throughout the long stretch of street.

Looking over the souls that walked these streets, Dean kept his eyes (eye, really) open for _her._ He had been standing outside the theater for close to thirty minutes now, attempting to blend in and hide his face from any passersby. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized by a fan and ogled over.

He had walked the length of the street a couple times out of boredom and remained unlucky in finding the ethereal woman from the night prior.

The evening drew on and finally the man was forced to leave, assuming he would never see her again.

…

This was proved to not be the case nearly four days later.

Although Dean had visited Chicago to get away from the hectic mess that was Hollywood, he couldn’t seem to relax and enjoy his vacation. He tried occupying his mind with going out and sightseeing, but he couldn’t help that his mind kept drifting back to the mysterious and beautiful woman from the night of the premiere.

This specific evening, Dean found himself taking a cab across town. After asking Mandy for recommendations, she had mentioned a diner that served wonderful meals and desserts. With nothing better to do, he set off this evening to see if she was right.

The ride took nearly twenty minutes, and Dean found that rather than being seated on the outskirts of town, the diner was in a rather busy part of the city. Paying his fare and thanking the driver, Dean stepped out of the cab. The driver wasted no time in pulling away as Dean slammed the door shut. Taking in his surroundings, the diner wasn’t too fancy. A small, older brick building with an awning poked with holes from age.

Dean scoffed, hoping Mandy wasn’t joking when she mentioned the place. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Dean began walking towards the entry of the restaurant.

**CHK… CHK… CHK**

_That sounds like-_

Turning his head towards a familiar sound, Dean froze in his tracks. Propped against the side of the building with one boot flat against the brick was the woman from the theater. She was mere feet from Dean, and she had clearly noticed him before he had seen her. As Dean looked over her form, she could see the recognition in his eyes immediately as a small smile tugged his lips.

The woman smiled around her cigarette; pearly white teeth barely visible under the lamplight.

“I was wondering when you’d come back for this.” The woman chuckled, tossing the zippo into the air. Dean scrambled, pulling his hands from his pockets and just barely grabbed the lighter before it got the chance to hit the ground.

Still fumbling to grasp onto the lighter, Dean didn’t notice as the woman kicked off the wall, quickly closing the space between them and pressing herself into his chest.

“Tell me, what brings such a handsome man to a _shithole_ like Chicago,” she crooned, pulling the stole from her shoulders and wrapping it around Dean, pulling him close.

Dean prayed he could put up a poker face but could feel it slipping as the woman pulled him against her. He wasn’t sure if he should push her away from him, but something about her told him not to. The fur was wrapped tightly around her knuckles, her chest pushed up against the man.

­­Looking over her figure, Dean took in her beauty as she continued puffing at her cigarette, awaiting his response. Hazel eyes, sharp arched brows and blemish free skin glittered under the streetlights. Feminine yet defined arms lead to thin fingers with manicured nails. Her hands were tightly wrapped in the fur, holding Dean in place. A thin pink slip covered her body, dipping dangerously low in the front as she pushed herself against the man.

“U-uhm… Well I’m sort of on a – wait a second. Do you not recognize me? Do you not know who I am?” Dean was honestly curious. He pulled back from the woman, dipping out of the confines of the fur. When he had met the mystery woman outside the theater, she said she didn’t have time to watch films. His picture was frequently in tabloids, though. Surely, she had seen him before.

“Mmm, no honey I don’t think I know you,” she draped the fur over her arm before leaning towards the man once again. Running a finger slowly down his dress shirt, she whispered, “can’t say I care either. But if you’re interested in learning who _I_ am, I’d be more than willing to show you.”

_Fuck._

With a wink the woman was backing off Dean, spinning away and wrapping her fur around her shoulders. She took a few steps away from the man before turning back to see if he was following. Surprisingly, Dean wasn’t. His expression was conflicted, with the brow of his damaged eye arched. He had stuffed his lighter and hands back in his pockets.

“You’re a hooker?” _Shit. Great job, Dean. Way to be blunt about it._ This time it was the woman’s turn to cock her brow at the director. Her head slightly tilted, braids falling over her shoulder.

“Hah. What, did you think I was some princess? Sorry to get your hopes up, hon.” She waved her hand in a shooing motion, as if to dismiss Dean. She looked down the street, sighing quietly before turning to leave. _He looks disgusted. I need to leave before he calls the cops, or worse._

The woman took long strides down the sidewalk, focusing on gaining as much space between herself and the man as possible. The last thing she wanted was to get stabbed outside her favorite diner by some suave psychopath with a bad eye.

Before she could get too far, however, a familiar hand was grabbing her wrist once again. The woman hesitated and looked over her shoulder to the man – prepared to run (or reach for her knife) if she needed to.

“Wait… Please wait,” he sighed. “I don’t even know your name?”

This brought back the woman’s smile, and she shrugged off his hand as she faced him.

“Valentine. But you, suga? You can call me Vee.” A smile tugged at her lips, causing her dimples to appear. Dean smiled softly at the sight.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Vee. It wasn’t my intention. My name’s Dean.” The director offered another soft smile, hoping he hadn’t completely ruined everything. “I, uh, was just getting ready to eat dinner. Would you like to join me?” He gestured over his shoulder to the diner they were now standing on the side of.

Vee scoffed, stifling a laugh as she rolled her eyes. “Baby if you don’t have the dough – I don’t have the time. Like I told you before, I’m a _very_ busy woman.”

Without hesitation Dean responded, “I’ve got the money!”

_The hell did I just say?_

Vee chuckled, slipping past Dean as she began walking back to the front of the diner. Throwing her black and pink braids over her shoulder she looked back to Dean who had a dumbfounded look.

“Well? C’mon suga, I’m starving!”

Giggling at the man’s expression, she backtracked, grabbing Dean’s arm and successfully wrenching his hand from his pocket. Her hold slid from his arm to his hand, entwining their fingers as she pulled him down the sidewalk towards the entrance of the eatery. Dean allowed himself to be pulled along and quickened his pace so he could walk side by side with the woman.

Holding the door open, Dean allowed Vee to enter the diner first. Small bells jingled, alerting the attention of the hostess near the counter. Vee waved to the woman before walking towards the back of the room and taking a seat at a small booth.

Within seconds the waitress was at the booth holding menus, two mugs and a large pot of coffee. She was young and had pale skin and frizzy blonde hair pulled back loosely.

“Heya, Vee! Busy night?” The waitress gave a knowing wink at Vee before looking Dean up and down, slightly grimacing at his scarred face and damaged eye. She gently set the mugs down before filling each one.

“Hi, Donna! Yup just finished up. Vel should be here before long to pick me up.” Vee replied, setting her fur and heart shaped glasses to her side in the booth. At hearing that Vee was _not_ working currently, she gave a questioning look to the woman, who only rolled her eyes and huffed at the waitress.

“No seas una culo, Donna. El es lindo.” Vee growled out jokingly, waving her hand to shoo the blonde away. Donna laughed, quipping back with “suit yourself,” before leaving the two and continuing making her rounds to the other tables occupied with diners. Vee chuckled as Donna left, bringing her mug to her lips.

“I’m no genius, but did you just call her an ass?” Dean asked.

Vee choked, nearly spitting her coffee onto the table. Her cheeks flushed and she covered her face with a hand as she looked up to the producer. Dean snorted, unsure why Vee reacted so badly.

“Y-you speak Spanish?!” she nearly shouted, before catching herself and lowering her voice. Dean shook his head, laughing under his breath.

“No, no. But I think I know what culo means!”

 _Oh, thank god_ …

Vee laughed; thankful he hadn’t understood the rest of her remark to Donna. She pushed away her embarrassment and took a sip of her coffee. The couple sat in silence for the next few minutes. Vee nursed her coffee while Dean flipped through the menu.

Donna returned to the table a few moments later, pulling out a note pad and gesturing to Vee that she was ready. She only ordered a slice of cheesecake to go with her coffee. Dean lifted an eyebrow to her order.

“Hey, you know you can order more than that right? I did kind of ask you out to dinner.”

Vee shook her head, her braids falling over her shoulders and she smiled at the movie director. She brushed it off as simply not being hungry and though Dean was skeptical, he didn’t push the subject. He placed his order and Donna thanked them before leaving and heading to the kitchen.

Unwilling to let the awkward silence take over again, Vee filled the time flirting and asking Dean questions about his life, his work and more. Still unsure of the man’s true intentions, Vee didn’t answer too many questions about herself, but remained pleasant. She briefly mentioned the name of a club she worked at, but she wasn’t about to let this man she had just met know her real name or where her ‘home’ was.

…

The only hint the two had that it was quite late in the evening was the sudden lack of customers in the diner. Though the establishment was open 24/7, the once packed dining room now sat barren besides a few waitresses who were lounging at the counter. Both Vee and Dean looked around the room before Dean pulled his jacket cuff up, glancing to his watch.

“We’ve been here… whoa! It’s nearly two in the morning!”

Vee’s eyes slightly widened at Dean’s comment. She quickly slid to the edge of the booth, scooping up her stole and heart shaped glasses from the bench. _Where the hell is Velvette?_

“I’m sorry Sug but I gotta go. If Kat finds out I’ve been slacking off…” she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, not willing to finish the sentence.

Leaning down, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Before she could pull away to leave Dean grabbed her hand, lightly kissing her knuckles before asking, “Can I see you again?” Feeling something being pressed into her palm, Vee looked down to see Dean had slipped a small bundle of cash into her hand.

Vee smiled, her dimples accenting her cheeks. “Just find me!” was all she offered before pulling her hand back and jogging to the diner’s door. As the door swung open the small bells sounded. The silence once again settled in, reminding Dean the diner was empty.

He waited a moment, thinking over the events that had happened since meeting Vee this evening. Everything from the lighter, to her smile, to the fur wrapped around her knuckles as she held him, to their conversations, and that kiss.

A groan escaped Dean as he forced himself out of the diner’s booth. Pulling his money clip from his pocket, he threw a few bills to the table before returning the fold to his pocket. Exiting the diner, he waited on the curb for a moment before he was able to hail a taxi, ushering the driver to return him to his hotel across town.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mild strip club scene, nothing too explicit

The following morning, Dean awoke with an uneasy feeling. He had tossed and turned all evening, wondering when the next opportunity to see the woman would arise. Shortly after he awoke, however, he found out what was causing his uneasy feeling. Mandy had visited his hotel room, alerting him of a scheduled call he needed to take with Don Ragno.

The Don typically did not make calls himself. If an issue arose that needed taken care of promptly, a subordinate or lesser ranked member of the family would write or call – not the Don. Dean arched a brow at the blonde upon hearing the news. He did not remember having her plug this call into his schedule. Shrugging, he chalked it up to his mind being in other places, thanking Mandy and assuring her he would make the call that afternoon.

The day went by quickly. Dean had placed the call to New York, making sure to use his alias name and speaking in code. He felt uncomfortable speaking with the Don – nothing in the conversation was extraordinary. A knot had formed in Dean’s stomach as he held his composure on the call, making sure to properly answer the questions asked of him. All in all, the call did not take up much time, and after hanging up Dean took time to analyze everything they had just spoke about.

The lax tone and topic of the entire conversation had Dean concerned if the Don had caught wind of his skimming packages. He quickly pushed the thought away. Surely if the Don thought he was being dishonest the man wouldn’t be calling with idle chit chat. Dean was sure if this was the case, Don Ragno would’ve already had him murdered.

Dean spent most of the day with Mandy. They worked to make sure things at the studios in Hollywood were still operating in his absence, signing documents that needed his endorsement and confirming his upcoming scheduled events.

As the sun set, Dean excused himself from the blonde’s company, and setting out in search of a taxi to take across town. He was in luck and quickly snagged a ride as he exited the hotel, hopping into the back of the vehicle and offering the name of his destination.

Dean looked over his outfit as the cab traveled down the busy streets of the city. He had dressed down this evening – the Chicago summer heat was beginning to flare as summer was nearing. He wore a grey t-shirt, neatly tucked into a pair of black pants. A few pale scars littered his arms, ranging in size from small to large. His pants had thin vertical red stripes on them, though they were only noticeable if you were close. He ruffled his hair before smoothing the black tresses back into place. Staring out the window, Dean allowed his mind to wander as he waited for the taxi to arrive at its destination.

‘ _Just find me!’_

Dean hoped Vee would be at the diner again, though he supposed it was a long shot. How was he supposed to know where she would be - especially with her profession?

_Wait. That’s it._

Leaning forward, Dean gave the taxi driver the name of the club Vee had mentioned, instead opting to go there before he would search elsewhere. The driver nodded, seemingly annoyed, as he turned at the next intersection, changing direction.

Surprisingly, the Electric Butterfly was only a mile or two from the diner. They sat only a few streets apart. Realizing the taxi was nearing the destination, Dean gathered himself and before the vehicle had even stopped, he was stepping out into the night. He paused before he entered the building, looking up at the glowing neon sign on the building. It was large, hanging off the side of the building to catch the attention of those on the sidewalk.

Bright pink and blue colors made up the club’s logo, complete with a curly shaped butterfly surrounded by small sparks. Large blinking bulbs lined the edge of the marquee. This area of town was a bit louder than the area around the diner, as Dean noticed the faint sounds of shouting from nearby streets as well as the loud music flowing from inside the club. Drunk partygoers lingered on the sidewalks as well as couples hanging on each other’s arms.

_I’ve been to places like this before – so why does this feel so different?_

Releasing the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, the director looked over his outfit one last time before approaching the large metal door of the building. Yanking open the heavy metal door, Dean slipped through, cautiously walking down the hallway before him. At the end of the hallway was another door, and a tall muscular figure stood beside it. Dean assumed there was a fee to enter the building and was prepared to pay. As he stood before the bouncer, he pulled his wallet out.

He looked to the man’s face, expecting to be told the fee for entrance. He was shocked, however, when the man simply looked him up and down, cocking an eyebrow. Before Dean could ask what the issue was, the muscular man pushed the door open, nodding his head towards Dean – a cue to enter.

Nodding his head in thanks, Dean entered the club. As the door was opened for him the loud music poured into the hallway. Now, standing in the entry of the club, Dean could see multiple areas of the large room in front of him. A small stage stood at one end of the club with small circular tables surrounding it whereas the other end of the room had a bar with many patrons clustered around it. Booths lined the walls of the establishment, and there were different hallways that lead off the sides of the stage.

Avoiding the packed bar, Dean moved down the stairs, descending the tiered area surrounding the stage. There was an empty table on the lowest tier, right next to the side of the stage. Slipping past loitering guests, Dean sat himself down at the table. A woman, part of the bar staff, approached Dean. Wearing an incredibly short skirt and dress shirt that was tied in the center, it revealed the milky color of her stomach. The woman offered Dean a drink menu before taking his order and leaving.

As Dean waited, he looked to the stage. Three poles lined the edges of the stage. Two sat off to the edges while one was front center. Dean’s table was closer to the side of the stage, positioned between the middle and far left poles. Fuchsia colored curtains lined the back wall of the stage, and movement could be seen occasionally between gaps in the fabric.

A moment passed before the waitress returned with Dean’s drinks – two frosted tumblers of whiskey. As the waitress left, guests began returning to their seats. The tables surrounding Dean as well as the ones on other tiers around the stage quickly filled. Men and women alike filled the seats, clutching their drinks as they waited for the show to begin.

Dean glanced around the room, taking in the different people congregating around the tables. He had felt the feeling of eyes on him, and in looking around the room realized why that was. Many women were bold in looking Dean over and winking at him. He kept a pleasant smile on his face, though internally was screaming from the uncomfortable feeling nagging at him.

Sure, Dean had multiple romantic interests through the years. The comfort of a woman was not something he was ignorant to. In recent years, however, Dean did not find himself in the presence of many other women. Mandy was the exception. Their relationship was strictly work related. The stress of producing numerous films in addition to the trade he was secretly running for the mob occupied most of the Dean’s time. In the end he rarely felt too lonely.

If Dean wasn’t here for one specific reason – a specific _person_ – he wouldn’t be as turned off to the thought of a woman gracing him with her company. His stomach churned. He wasn’t completely sure what this emotion he felt towards the woman was. He couldn’t help but feel a bit obsessed over her. Not in a kill-her-and-wear-her-skin-as-a-suit way, but he wouldn’t mind being given the opportunity to spend more time with her.

Sinking into his seat, Dean ignored the stares he could still feel burning into his back. Grabbing one of his drinks, he knocked the liquor back, emptying the glass in a quick motion. As soon as he set the glass back down on the table, the lights around the stage slightly dimmed, accompanied by the flashing of strobe lights. Colored lights surrounded the stage, illuminating the dark area.

The chatter of the room quieted as everyone’s eyes drew to the stage.

As the lights dimmed, two women appeared from behind the thick curtains on the stage. Taking their places on the outermost poles, they waited for music to cue before starting their routine. Dean sipped on his remaining drink, uninterested in the two women currently dancing. He didn’t have to wait too long, however, as right when the music began to pick up in speed a third dancer appeared from the curtains.

Familiar bronze skin shone under the colorful lights of the club. She wasted no time in starting her performance as the music reached a crescendo.

Dean was mesmerized. He watched as Vee strutted to the centermost pole, taking steps to the beat of the music. Her body rocked against the pole, lifting, dropping, twirling, grinding. Every inch of her skin was on display and Dean couldn’t peel his eyes away from her figure. Her toned upper arms and shoulder blades turned to a smooth valley of skin. Her hips were bare minus the thin pink thong she wore. Her thighs gripped the pole as she spun and tall stockings covered her calves.

Her braids flitted around her form as she twirled, whipping behind her before she bent away from the pole – dropping herself to the stage. She rocked her body to the music, grinding against the flooring. Her chest glittered in the glow of the lights with the smallest amount of perspiration rolling down her collarbone. Besides her panties, the only other piece of ‘clothing’ she wore were pink heart shaped pasties.

Those stickers were becoming more and more obvious as she crawled across the stage, pulling bills from the hands of men that either had the blessing of being seated right next to the platform or had walked up to it.

Vee was focused on her routine, ignoring the whoops and hollering of the crowd and instead only focusing on the music she was performing to. This was her last set of the night, where instead of dancing solo for the crowd she was joined with two other girls. The stage was full now, Vee having returned to the center pole. Each of the three poles were taken by a dancer and the whoops and cheers erupted from the crowd. Vee danced through the long song; adrenaline propelled by the upbeat music.

It wasn’t until the music began slowing down did she slip herself from the pole once more, moving provocatively across the set. Knowing the song was nearly over (as well as her shift), she crawled to the edge of the stage, swaying her hips behind her as she tugged bills from the hands of the men and women lining the area.

Just like any other routine, Vee made sure to wear the seductive smile and lidded eyes that customers loved so much. Crawling from one end of the platform to the other, she held eye contact and smiled as she slipped the money from each person before placing it in the band of her thin panties. It wasn’t until she had gotten to the opposite side of the stage, however, that she paused.

As she neared the last person on the stage, she reached up to the toned hand holding bills out to her. She gently brushed her fingertips across the man’s hand before lightly grabbing onto the money. She tossed her braids behind her shoulder before looking up to the man’s eyes. Like the flick of a light switch, her rehearsed smile she used for work morphed and grew to a grin.

Rather than the lust filled looks she had grown accustomed to from customers and clients alike, she was met with a gaze from one pale blue eye, and one scarred white eye. Vee rocked back onto her bottom, effectively sitting on the edge of the stage.

“Well I’ll be damned. You found me!” She giggled, finally plucking the money from Dean’s hand before sliding it into the waistband of her panties with the rest of the cash. The music slowly faded out and the other dancers disappeared behind the pink colored curtains at the rear of the stage.

Dean watched as Vee rocked back, effectively sitting on her thighs. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think you’d come looking for me.”

“Well I hope it’s a pleasant surprise,” Dean replied, tilting his head playfully. “I didn’t actually come here to watch you dance, though it was a welcome sight.” Dean chuckled, offering a hand to the woman. Vee accepted, hopping down from the stage.

“Really, suga? Well if you didn’t want to watch me dance, what did you come here for? A private session?” Vee cocked her head, watching Dean intently, hoping she could read his reaction.

“No, no. Nothing like that. I was hoping you would be hungry. Would you like to get something to eat with me, Vee?”

“Hmm, you’re lucky my shift is over! Let me go grab my things!” Vee’s grin was plastered to her face as she left Dean to get her clothes and bag from the dressing rooms. Dean watched as Vee walked away, seeing the woman hurriedly pulling the cash from the strap of her panties as she pranced down the hallway in the back of the building.

Dean stepped out of the club and attempted to hail a cab while he waited for Vee. After a few minutes the man was able to successfully get a taxi to pull over for him, and Vee came bounding out of the club at the same time.

Rather than a dress, Vee emerged from the building in pair of fitted high-waisted pants and a partially tucked in t-shirt. Dean was taken aback seeing the woman not in her usual fur and dress ensemble, but the outfit she wore _was_ in style and modest. She jogged up to Dean, slinging her duffel over her shoulder. Dean, who was still ogling Vee’s outfit, was grabbed by the shoulders and spun around by the woman as she pushed him into the awaiting taxi.

…

For the rest of Dean’s stay in Chicago, he met Vee every evening at the diner. Each night, they would meet up around the same time. Some nights were spent on coffee and desserts, and some nights they ate dinner together. Dean paid for Vee’s meal each night and slipped her extra cash as a ‘thank you’ of sorts.

Their conversations grew warmer as the days went on. Dean apologized for antagonizing Vee previously over “who he was” and explained himself. He told her who he was, where he was from and gave her more details of what was happening the night of the premiere, when he first arrived in Chicago.

Once Vee heard ‘Dean Vizio’ she realized who the handsome man in front of her was. Dean was right. His face _was_ posted all over the city – from billboards to tabloid advertisements. She had seen the ads yet did not realize this was the same man. Truth be told, Vee didn’t really care about the man’s career. Sure, if he was just any other john it would matter. Dean was different, though. He wasn’t seeking Vee’s company for sex. At least if he was – Vee couldn’t tell.

Their evenings eating and talking relaxed Vee and helped her forget the details of her work, whether she was done for the day or hadn’t started quite yet. They would stay at the diner hours after they were done eating just to continue talking about their lives and the goings on around them. As the early hours of the morning rolled around, a car would pull up outside of the restaurant, honking. Vee knew this signal, would apologize and stand from the booth.

Without fail, each time the car horn sounded, Dean would gently grab Vee’s hand. He would press bills into her palm before turning her hand over and delicately kissing her knuckles, bidding her a good night.

After nearly a week of eating dinner together, Dean was beginning to get used to Vee’s schedule and when she would arrive at the diner. Vee, in turn, was excited by the other man’s desire to see her. At this point, she found herself looking forward to these late-night meetings, thinking about the man as she worked. She felt comfortable around Dean and was happy she had someone besides her housemates that she could open up to and talk to. 

While Dean was absolutely enamored with this woman and the time they spent together, he knew it would come to a crashing halt once he had to return home. He loved his work, and he loved Hollywood. However, he couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety that bubbled in his gut every time he thought of never seeing Vee again.

And here he was, sitting in front of her, stumbling over his words as he attempted to explain that their time was nearly through. Dean’s head was racing a mile a minute, and Vee had noticed. She held her coffee to her lips, watching Dean panic.

_Will she even care? Should she care? I guess in a sense I’ve been paying for her services. She probably has tons of guys that would love to take her to dinner._

“Suga… Are you ok? Ever since I asked you what your plans for this weekend were, you’ve been stuttering and glitching like some sort of broken television.

Brought back to the present by her voice, Dean was forced to bring his gaze back to Vee. He took a deep breath, attempting to figure out what to say.

“Fuck… Yeah, I heard you Vee.” Dean sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Listen, I gotta tell you something.”

“Oh. Is that what this is?”

“Huh?”

“You gonna tell me you’ve got a wife and she found out, right? You gotta go, blah blah blah. Right?”

“Vee, the fuck? No. _Fuck_ no.” A disturbed scowl crossed the man’s face as he stared at the woman. “No. This has to do with my job. You see, I was only supposed to come here for the premiere.”

Vee was at a loss for words. She let Dean say what he needed to, listening to each word carefully as it left the man’s mouth.

_So that means-_

“I’m leaving, Vee. I have to go home.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: typical violence / hitting but nothing too bad.

Vee stormed out of the diner. She angrily threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder before pulling her braids up into a bun atop her head, securing them with a thick hairband. The sun set already, and Vee made sure to watch her back as she stomped down the sidewalk. The bellbottom pant legs of her playsuit fluttered about her ankles as she moved.

Vee knew Kat would be at the diner within the next couple hours, looking to pick her up. The diner had always been a pickup spot for girls. Kat made the drive across town nightly to pick up any of his ‘kittens’ that had wandered too far. She only hoped she could get back to the cathouse before Kat left. If he had to wait outside of the diner for her when she wasn’t even there - she knew he would be pissed.

The trek across town wasn’t a long one, but it could be dangerous. Vee kept her head held high, watching her surroundings as everything that happened with Dean repeated itself in her thoughts.

_Do I even have a right to be mad? He’s been paying me for my time. He probably DOES have a wife. I play mind games with people as a job, so why does it hurt now that the tables have turned on me?_

Vee shook her head.

_I am NOT weak. At best, he was just a friend. Someone to complain to, talk to, relate to._

She paused in step, running her hands down her face.

_So why do I want to cry?_

…

Vee made it back to Kat’s house around midnight. Luckily, the man was still sitting in his office. She lightly rapped on the door, waiting for the man to usher her into the room. Hearing a gruff ‘come in’, Vee entered, keeping her eyes down as she grabbed the cash she had been hastily stuffing into the bag throughout her day. Hoping to keep her interaction with Kat short, she turned on her heel and began to silently walk back towards the door.

“This is it? For the whole day?” The man grumbled from behind her.

“Sir? That’s how much I normally make daily. I’ve been out all day?” Vee questioned, keeping her tone smooth and quiet, praying the man’s temper didn’t explode.

Luck didn’t seem to be on Vee’s side today, and as she turned to face Kat, a searing pain met her cheek. Kat had silently stood from his desk as Vee turned her back to leave the room. Rubbing the back of his hand, he leered down at the shorter woman.

Vee’s breath hitched in her throat at how close the man was to her. He was exceptionally tall, looming over her short figure. His silk button down shirt billowed away from his chest as he leaned over her. His plush floor length coat hung open, threatening to swallow up the woman if she were any closer. A cigar hung loosely from his lips. The smoke lingered in the air, wrapping and bending around Vee as if it were a hand threatening to grab her.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk back. I know you’ve been wasting time every night on the same john. Does he even fuck or just pay you to sit in that shit hole diner with him?”

Vee attempted a rebuttal but was met with a finger pointed in her face, causing her to flinch back.

“Don’t you DARE interrupt me. And don’t you DARE waste my time, Vee,” he shouted. He bent himself lower, closer to the woman’s face. His tone was now hush, voice gravely and deep. He tilted Vee’s chin up with his pointer finger. “You know what happens when gals can’t pull their weight. You don’t want to end up like that, right?”

“N-no sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll do better.” Vee held firm, refusing to break eye contact with the man.

“Good.” Was all the pimp responded with before straightening his posture. As he dropped his hand from Vee’s chin his numerous rings clicked against each other. He returned to his seat without another word, effectively ignoring the woman’s presence. Vee took this opportunity to slip out of the office, heading towards the staircase of the dilapidated house, and quietly made her way up to the room she shared with three other girls. The run down home had multiple rooms on the upper floors, and while she was lucky enough to only share her room with a few women, there must have been at least twenty-five others living in the building as well.

Vee quietly entered the doorless room, tossing her purse to a messy pile of clothes that lent against a cluttered vanity. Her eyes shifted to the bare mattress in the corner of the room and noticed she wasn’t alone. One of her roommates, a petite Latina, slept against the wall. Vee flopped down on the tattered mattress, knowing it wouldn’t wake the other woman. She huffed, shutting her eyes as she attempted to get comfortable. Adrenaline continued to course through her body. With that sadness, anger, and desperation threatened to consume her conscious. Vee was furious at herself, Kat _and_ Dean. She willed exhaustion to take her rather than having to lay awake and be forced to think of the horrible events that occurred through the day.

…

Dean had returned to his hotel after leaving the diner.

After having told Vee he would return to his home and career in Hollywood the woman sat there for what felt like hours (though it was more than likely just a minute or two). A distant, somber look haunted her eyes. Without a word, she stood abruptly and snatched her purse and sunglasses from the table before storming out.

Dean wanted to stop her. To grab her and kiss her and apologize. However, contrary to what his heart wanted to do; his brain didn’t react in time. As the woman stormed out of the restaurant Dean was left staring at the coffee mug abandoned in front of him.

The following morning Dean packed his luggage. Mandy had visited the room to make sure he had remembered their flight. She was surprised to see he was already packed and ready to leave. They weren’t scheduled to leave until late in the evening and after how happy Dean had seemed the past week, she did not understand his sudden glum attitude and eagerness to leave the city.

After confirming the man was ok (a silent nod) and would remember to meet her for the ride to the airport, Mandy left.

…

Dean turned the key, disengaging the lock on the door of his studio apartment. He swung the door open, dropping his luggage in the entryway before slamming the door shut behind himself and making his way to the kitchen. He pulled a glass from the cupboard as well as a crystal decanter with an amber colored liquor inside. He poured himself a drink, throwing it back quickly.

The eerie silence of the large flat always put Dean on edge. He had lived here for years, and usually filled the silence of the apartment with parties or inviting women back with him. Dean sighed loudly, refilling his glass. Not even Mandy had returned with him. Having been away for two weeks Mandy had rushed right home after they landed. Though their relationship was strictly platonic, Mandy knew Dean hated sitting in his silent apartment alone and would frequently visit the man with treats, games, and her dogs to keep the two of them occupied.

Dean made his way to his study, pulling a separate key ring from his pocket and unlocking the door. Upon entering the room Dean immediately felt something was off. The room looked the same as when he left, but the man had a nagging feeling in his head that something _was_ different.

_Has something been moved? Something missing?_

Dean slowly made his way around the room, looking over the different filing cabinets, bookshelves and his desk. At first glance everything _did_ look to still be in place. However, after analyzing every little detail of the room he could feel the fear bubbling in his gut. The room was typically spotless. Between his own OCD and Mandy cleaning his studio, this room was always kept pristine and locked away from prying eyes.

One of the filing cabinets in the room had a drawer that was slightly ajar. The bookshelves, which had previously been organized alphabetically no longer were – as if someone had knocked them all to the ground before hastily placing them back on the shelves. A keyhole on his desk had small scratches around it - as if someone attempted to pick the lock.

The fear in his gut bubbled over into full-blown panic. It was obvious that whoever had managed to pick the lock to the office had successfully picked the desk lock in addition to the filing cabinet’s locks. The job was messy. Whoever it was hardly bothered in picking up after themselves. If it had been the mob, they wouldn’t have left such a trace. It was painfully obvious someone had been snooping through Dean’s home.

_Unless they wanted it to be obvious._

Dean’s eyes widened at the realization.

_A trap._

Running from the office to the entryway of the loft, Dean grabbed his suitcase and took it back to his bedroom. He threw the case on his bed, fumbling to undo the locks before flipping the whole case, emptying the dirtied clothes and other contents over the quilt. 

The mafioso flung the door open to his wardrobe, quickly lifting all the hangers and folding the thick stack of clothes over his arm before throwing them into the awaiting luggage (hanger and all). Dean fought to remain calm; to remember the training he had gone through when he first became a member of the Family. The possibility of being assassinated in his apartment didn’t seem like a fun way to go, though. Collapsing to the ground, he pulled a heavy black case from under the bed. His hands fumbled as he attempted to yet again pull his keyring from his pocket. After dropping the ring twice Dean paused, forcing himself to take a deep breath before picking the keys up and unlocking the thick safe.

Two immaculate Colt M1911’s sat on a bed of foam. The actions stood open on both guns, shining in the dim glow of the early morning light. Dean picked the weapons up, pulling the triggers and allowing the chambers to slam closed. In his urgency, he lazily tossed the weapons atop the clothing already in the suitcase before grabbing ammunition and adding the packages to the suitcase.

Ripping up the foam lining the handguns had been previously supported on revealed neatly stacked bundles of cash. Dean grabbed the straps in handfuls, wedging the money into the lining of his suitcase along with a small cellophane wrapped brick of the same product that got him into this predicament in the first place.

Happy with the items he was able to grab, he zipped shut the overly-full luggage. Dean grabbed the suitcase and reminded himself to walk calmly as he exited the apartment. If by chance he wasn’t being watched currently, he didn’t want to draw attention by running out of the loft. Rather than drive his car, Dean walked from his home across town to the train station. Though doubtful, he prayed he would be able to leave town before his stalkers caught up with him. If he was lucky, he could slip out of Hollywood before the mafia took notice.

However, if they had caught on to exactly how long he had been falsifying the ledgers and reselling product, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if they splattered his brains across the pavement any second now.

Dean silently made the trip across town. His hat sat low on his head and he focused on the sidewalk passing below his feet. After walking nearly 7 blocks, the man rounded the corner, finally able to see the train station’s building in a clearing towards the edge of town. There were less buildings in this part of the city and the ornate station building stood out from the others in the area. He tightened his grip on the luggage handle as he quickened his pace. _Where am I even going? Back to Chicago? No, I need to stay as far away from New York as possible. Louisiana? No. Ugh. Another country?_ He shook his head. If the goons that raided his apartment actually understood the skimming operation he had been running then he was screwed.

Taking the stairs two at a time Dean entered the station, making his way straight to a woman positioned behind the ticket sales counter.

“Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Good morning. I need a ticket to,“ Dean sang out the last word as he pondered where he should go. “Chicago. The soonest train, please.”

“Will you need the ticket good for both ways, sir?”

“No. No need.”

The clerk flipped through different ledgers including a few booklets that seemed to keep dates and times. Dean fidgeted in his spot, nervously tapping his fingers atop the counter.

“Oh Dean, _baby…_ where ya goin’ in such a hurry?”

Dean froze before straightening his shoulders. He knew that voice. God, why did he know that voice. Nasally, feminine, _annoying._ If the person he thought this voice belonged to was truly standing behind him – then he was in deep shit. It was one thing for a family member to hunt down someone that had committed treason, but for the Don’s own son –

“Anthony,” Dean turned to face the future heir of the Ragno family, looking the man up and down. Anthony Ragno, second son to Don Henry Ragno stood before him. Tall, thin, with sharp green eyes and thick black eye makeup peeking from below the rim of his black fedora. Neatly sleeked back blonde locks shined from where they laid beneath the hat. His suit was solid black. Everything from the suit coat and slacks to the dress shirt, vest and tie. The only hint of color the man wore was a silver tie clip that resembled a deer’s skull, complete with tiny rubies acting as the deer’s eyes. Though Anthony was tall his posture was relaxed and slightly slouched causing him to appear shorter than he was. Either way, Dean was nearly a head taller than Anthony. His hands were pushed into the pockets of his neatly pressed slacks. A slight bulge in the suit’s fabric near Anthony’s ribs confirmed to Dean that he had a gun strapped under his arm.

“Nice to see ya, kid. I wasn’t expecting to see you here - considering you’re supposed to be thousands of miles away.”

“Heh. Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m a bit surprised to see _you_ **_here_** , Dean,” Anthony gestured to the building they were standing in. “So please, spill the details, hun. Where ya goin’ in such a hurry?”

At the director’s lack of response Anthony scoffed. He sauntered towards Dean, walking a half circle around him before trailing his fingers over the man’s shoulders and whispering into his ear. “No need for secrets, mista movie directa.”

Dean shrugged away from the younger man’s touch, turning to face him once again. He rolled his eyes dramatically at the blonde.

“You know what I do. I’m simply heading north for a premiere. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh but you know it _is_ my business. I thought you just got back from a premiere, hmm? Anotha one so soon?” A cross between a smirk and shit-eating grin was plastered to the blonde’s face. As Dean looked around the station his eyes glanced over the numerous people loitering. There was someone he knew would be lurking. If the ‘brains’ was standing in front of him, then the ‘muscle’ wasn’t far off. This, paired with the strong sensation of someone watching him – and he knew Frankie was somewhere nearby.

Sure enough, A couple hundred feet away, sitting in a chair against a wall was Frankie. Similar to Anthony, the man wore a solid black suit, with the only exception being his tie was not black but was instead a pale-yellow color. His thick brunette hair was slicked back and his arms were crossed tightly across his chest.

Unlike his brother, Frankie was built. His arm muscles pulled at the fabric of his suit as he stared Dean down from where he was seated. While Anthony was shorter than Dean, at maybe five foot ten inches, Frankie was taller than the director. The man stood somewhere near six-four or six-six. Luckily, Dean never had a reason to get too close to the man to find out. That wasn’t an interaction he ever wanted to have.

“Sir, I have your ticket ready.”

Dean spun on his heels, looking down to the paper the clerk had slipped onto the counter. _Wonderful._ This must’ve been his luckiest day ever. The next train for Chicago was scheduled to arrive within the next ten minutes. He was grateful the train was arriving so soon, though even if it wasn’t going to arrive for hours he’d have stayed in the station regardless. There was no point risking going back to the studio, though it would seem the danger only followed him to the station.

Dean picked up the ticket, quickly stuffing the thick paper into the pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled a few bills from the pocket and passed them to the woman.

“Well, Anthony, as lovely as it’s been, I’ll need to take my leave. Unless you had something else you’d like to add.” Dean cocked a brow, turning to face the man. Surely with this many people in the station the brothers wouldn’t cause a scene. Dean could see that across the room Frankie had stood from his chair and was slowly walking towards the two men.

“Nah, nah.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air, signaling to his brother not to intervene. He leaned forward, yanking Dean’s suit lapels so their faces were closer. Anthony lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear.

“I’ll catch ya later, handsome. Have fun on ya _trip.”_ Anthony winked, releasing the man’s jacket and spinning around before sauntering off. Frankie looked annoyed but followed his younger brother out of the building. Dean watched until the two had gone and the door to the building had shut behind them.

As soon as the large doors to the station closed, Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Running a hand down his face, a growl escaped his lips. He adjusted his hat before walking to the rear exit of the building to wait for the train’s arrival. He thought over what had just happened. He was sure if the station wasn’t as populated, he would’ve been offed right there. Surely Anthony and Frankie were the ones that had gone through his studio and not some other goons. The way Anthony responded so cheekily confirmed that. The flirtatious mobster knew exactly how to get under other’s skin, that was for sure.

Dean sighed, taking a seat at a bench on the exterior of the building. This wasn’t good. They had uncovered his skimming, more than likely had watched him enter and leave his home, had followed him to the station, and knew where he was traveling. Even if the duo hadn’t heard where Dean’s ticket would take him, all they needed to do was ask the clerk what train he had stepped onto. Though the brothers had left the building, he was sure they were still nearby - watching and plotting.

Caught up in his thoughts, Dean hadn’t realized the train had arrived until the horn sounded. He stood, smoothing his suit out before picking up his luggage and approaching the operator. He handed his ticket to the man who tore a stub from the bottom of the ticket before handing the remaining piece back to Dean. He nodded his thanks to the man and boarded the train, heading to the rear car and taking a seat.

Stuck in his thoughts, it wasn’t long before the train had finished boarding. With a lurch the car rattled to life and began down the tracks.

_What am I even doing? Who am I joking, it’s only a matter of time before they get me somewhere they can off me. It’s not like I could repay them, even if I wanted to. I’m in too deep at this point. Where will I go in Chicago? After Chicago? Vee won’t want to see me. I betrayed whatever trust was there._

Dean sighed loudly before dragging his palms down his face. Thankfully, this specific car of the train was relatively empty. Without a doubt as it made more stops it would fill.

_I suppose I could try and throw them off once I get to Chicago. I could buy a ticket somewhere else the minute I arrive._

He pondered his options, sighing once more before settling into his seat. It was going to be a long trip - more than two days - so he might as well get relatively comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing the bit with Anthony and Frankie! It took me almost four hours alone to edit this one chapter thanks to my husband and daughter both having a cold. Tho this story isnt super popular I have the most fun writing this one! Please leave a comment if you'd like to see more of this fic posted!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, welcome to my Romeo and Juliet, Moulin Rouge knock-off LOL. I have the plot summary ready for all of book one, which focuses on their human lives. Book two will move into their demon lives. This fic might not update routinely because I want to upload bigger chapters. :)
> 
> Some aspects of this work are era focused but others may not be. I originally gave the characters cell phones then edited them out. Vee's hairstyle would be something not too era focused. I'm not too read up on sex workers so I hope nothing I wrote is too scandalous or offensive.


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